


Pillow Talk

by nerakrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Percy's emotional blackmailing doesn't work as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This bout of fluff is inspired by [this photo](http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ly3zw0NBRK1qjzb1po1_500.png), found on tumblr one morning. (It's slightly NSFW but only because of kissy times.)

Percy turned the page and continued his writing. The scratch-scratch of quill against parchment and Oliver's soft snores were the only sounds in the bedroom. Percy frowned at the book and then frowned at his parchment. He made a note and summoned another book from his desk.

The mattress dipped as Oliver turned, burrowing into the sheets. Percy paused for a moment to look at him but when it seemed he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, he continued writing his report.

Scratch-scratch. Scritch. Sigh.

"Mmmmorning," Oliver murmured, stretching.

"Morning." Percy smiled, pausing with his scribblings. Oliver's hair was mussed and he had lines on his face from the sheets.

"You're working again?" Oliver hauled himself up and looked over Percy's arm. "Looks boring."

"Well, it is boring."

Oliver chuckled. "Then don't do it. Silly." He reached up and plucked Percy's glasses off his nose and put them on his own. "Working in bed is a habit we need to do something about."

"Yeah?" Percy raised an eyebrow, but couldn't help the smile on his face, or the tickle in his chest. He put the books and parchment on the bedside table as Oliver grinned and clambered on top of him.

The tickle in Percy's chest turned into a full-blown rampage. He couldn't see Oliver very clearly; he was sort of fuzzy around the edges and out of focus, but it wasn't very bad, really - it wasn't so bad that he couldn't see the twinkle in his eyes or the mischievous curl on his lips.

Or just how good he looked wearing his glasses.

"Yeah," Oliver said and the Oliver-shaped blotch of fuzzy colour moved into focus and then Oliver was kissing him.

"Was just waiting for you to wake up," Percy mumbled in between kisses. "I thought of waking you up with a blow-job -"

"Oi!" Oliver bolted upright and turned back into fuzz. "Why didn't you?"

Percy huffed. " _Last time_ -"

Oliver groaned. "I'm sorry about last time. Really sorry! I made it up to you five times!" He leaned closer again for another kiss. "It was totally dumb of me, Perce. All the other times were good, remember?"

"Mmmh." Percy stole his glasses back and Oliver turned back into solid. A regretful, solid Oliver, who nonetheless was still sleepy warm and sitting on top of him. "I'm sorry if I didn't exactly want to take the risk today. It took _days_ for my black eye to heal."

It was evil of him, he thought, to bring it up again, when the curve of Oliver's mouth turned decidedly downwards and made him look like a kicked puppy. He didn't like the kicked puppy look on Oliver, it always made his throat hurt a little, but...

"How about," Oliver started, and Percy knew he was going to get exactly what he wanted. "I take a little special care of you today," his hand slid under the covers, "and then make you breakfast?"

"I like the sound of that." Percy smiled and Oliver laughed and kissed him again.

Oliver dove under the covers and made Percy squeal when he tickled him instead of - ahem - doing that _other_ thing which Percy was expecting him to do. "I know what you're thinking," Oliver said and placed an open-mouthed kiss on his stomach.

"Do you?" Percy lifted the covers to look.

"Mmmhh." Oliver looked up. "You know, you don't have to resort to emotional blackmail when you want me to do things for you. You can just ask for them."

Percy's cheeks coloured. "I wasn't!"

"Oh?" Oliver's left eyebrow went up in an eerie Percy-like manner.

"Maybe a little bit," Percy conceded. "It usually works."

"I think this morning I want you to ask for it." Oliver slid up, resting his chin on Percy's chest. His eyes looked very, very blue, so blue that he was not thinking about what Oliver's hand was doing on his thigh, because obviously Oliver was playing a game with him, and losing was not an option.

"Oh."

"Mmmh." Oliver's hand crept around his side. "I want you to say: _Dearest sweetest Oliver, I want you to suck my cock_."

Percy's face was now beet red. "That's not fair."

Oliver grinned. "Perce," he chuckled. "You've a filthy mouth. I know where that mouth has _been_. Say it."

"I -" Percy squirmed. "It's still not fair."

"It's really very easy. You know the words," Oliver teased. "Do you know how many times you've said to me _I want to suck your cock, Oliver_ and how many times you've said _I'm going to blow you right now, Oliver_?"

"...no?"

"I don't either. But I can tell you how many times you've said _I want you to suck me off, Oliver_." Oliver was still grinning, the bastard.

"Well?" he said, knowing exactly what the answer was.

"Five," Oliver said. He held up his hand and started counting. "One, on our second date. Two, at my parents' house. Three, on our 18 month anniversary. Four -"

"On your birthday. Five, New Year's Eve last year," Percy finished. His cheeks were really flaming now. "Are you intending to cook breakfast on my face? Because I think you could."

Oliver eyed his cheeks speculatively. "I suppose it's worth a try." He shook his head. "No. I just want you to say it. Loads."

"Why?"

"Because," Oliver's hand was back on his thigh, "it's sexy."

"Oh."

"It's okay to ask for things, you know. I like it when you ask."

"It's embarrassing," Percy muttered.

"Why?" Oliver nudged him.

"Because - because then you know what I want."

Oliver chuckled. "All the better, you know." He slid up again, leaning in for a quick kiss. "I want to know what you want. Tell me what you want right now. Tell me and I'll give it to you."

"Uhm, well..." Percy sighed. "I'd rather not have this conversation. And..." he coughed. "I'd like it very much if... you know..."

It really wasn't fair, he thought, that Oliver had a really good point and that he was so handsome and so...so... _his_. Oliver knew him too well and now he was looking at him and his eyes were too blue and it was all very embarrassing. Not fair.

"Can we just drop it? I'm hungry," Percy said. "Breakfast?"

Oliver held his gaze for a while longer. "Okay," he said. "I'll go do a fry up. The usual?"

"Yeah."

With surprisingly little fuss, Oliver was up and out of the bedroom. It felt cold now, which wasn't fair either. Stupid, Percy, Stupid.

The pan sizzled in the kitchen.

Percy drew in a deep breath. Right. Right. Undo the stupid. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up and walked out of the bedroom.

And walked right back into the bedroom and put on a pair of underwear. _Then_ he went into the kitchen.

"Oliver," he said, imperiously. "I want a blow-job."

Oliver, who'd been transferring bacon and sausages from the pan and onto two plates, dropped the pan. And whirled around. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Uhm..." Percy faltered, then cleared his throat. "I...er...don't think so."

"Sure about that?" Oliver had closed the distance between them now. His hands were on Percy's hips. Also, he was wearing that ridiculous apron that Percy had gotten him as a joke, but that Oliver apparently was very fond of. To Oliver's defense, it did say 'Kiss the chef' on the front.

"Some coffee would be nice too," Percy said lamely. Oliver broke out into a smile.

"Sit down, love." A kiss. "Breakfast first, I think. You're going to need some fuel."

"You're wicked, Oliver Wood, very wicked." Percy kissed him again. "I don't know why I put up with you."

"It's because I look good in the kitchen." Oliver picked up the pan again and finished dishing out bacon.

Percy, eyeing Oliver's bare arse, nodded. "Mmmhh." The familiar tickle in his chest was back. Well, to be honest, it never really left, but sometimes it was more _there_ than usual. Today was one of those days. "I think I want to fuck you afterwards."

Oliver dropped the pan again. "Oh. Okay. Yes. Definitely." He looked over his shoulder. "Anything else?"

"Oh, I haven't decided."

Percy's attempt at being blasé fell to the ground almost immediately. It happened right about when his cheeks flamed up again.

Oliver set their plates down on the table. "Keep doing that and I won't make it through breakfast."

"Oh, shut up." Percy picked up his fork. Oliver just grinned.


End file.
